Psychopomp
by IC Shinigami
Summary: A fledgling Death God cell struggles against the forces of Hueco Mundo, the pressures of Soul Society, and the responsibility of being Death Gods as they fight to protect a small New York college. A Bleach/real-life crossover with all original characters.
1. Prelude to Entropy

There are 94 blue lights placed strategically over the campus of Ithaca College. Each light is a beacon drawing attention to an emergency telephone, which can put a caller through to the Office of Public Safety with the touch of a button. Ithaca College, and every institute of higher learning in the United States for that matter, has reasons for these lights. Every 21 hours someone is raped on a college campus. These blue lights serve as safety lines for would-be victims and as deterrents for would-be aggressors. But despite the protection these lights might offer from the denizens of our world, there are entities for which a light won't be nearly enough of a discouragement. They are not of our world, and they do not belong here. The only thing that stands between them and the innocents of this world are the shinigami, the Death Gods.

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It was late, maybe a little after midnight. James had just finished the last bit of homework for macroeconomics the next day when he heard it. It made his blood run cold and his hair stand on end. The din of a re-broadcast of the Comedy Central Roast of Flavor Flav was pierced by a single blood-curdling shriek. James looked at his roommate, Andrew Telfort, to see if Andrew had heard it. He hadn't. He wasn't even awake. Andrew had a tendency to fall asleep with the television on, but James found it hard to fault him. Andrew was a freshman as well, but he was also a football player. That meant hours of exhausting work just to hold down the fifth spot out of seven, which seemed ridiculous to James, although he thought understood why someone would do it.

James slipped silently off his bed and onto the ground. _It's probably just some girl fooling around_, he thought to himself, but as much as his logic attempted to hold him back, his heart told him he was obligated to investigate. He quickly pulled on a pair socks and slipped into a shirt and a pair of old Nike sneakers. He grabbed the hoodie he had gotten as part of his high school soccer team senior year and his keys and stole quietly out the door, turning the knob before closing it so it wouldn't click shut and wake Andrew.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A.J. Rousseau was always a light sleeper. Her eyes flashed open and immediately registered the ceiling of her dorm room even as her hand snaked over her head toward her cell phone. She picked it up before the third ring and without bothering to check the caller she flipped the device open and queried as to who was calling.

"Who is it?" she asked wearily, wishing she could have had a few more hours of uninterrupted sleep.

"This is Randall. Wake Iris and get down to O lot, now. Call Roseanna on your way over here and tell her to bring Erin," the other voice commanded, before the man named Randall cut the connection.

"Shit!" A.J. bounced off her strawberry-themed sheets and onto the small carpet she and her roommate, the aforementioned Iris, shared.

"Iris, wake up!" A.J. called to the sleeping form of her roommate. A.J. hopped into a pair of shoes and threw a sandal at the still prone Iris, hitting her in the shoulder. Iris rolled over and sat up to face A.J. as she was reaching for a jacket.

"What's the big fuss," she managed between yawns, "at twelve o'clock in the morning?" snatching a glance at the clock. Obviously midnight is no stretch for the typical college student, but these were anything but typical.

"Randall called. We need to be in front of Park, now."

Iris bolted out from under the covers and grabbed a blanket and her keys.

"I got keys, are you good?" she asked, looking at A.J. as she pulled her sweater over her head.

"I'm fine, but don't you need shoes?"

"Fuck shoes, let's go."

Grabbing her keys and cell phone first, A.J. then vaulted over her bed on the way out the door. Iris leaped over to her roommate's bed and then hit the ground running behind her fire-haired friend. The door slammed shut rather noisily behind them, but neither of them were really concerned about that at that moment.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

As he bounded down the stairs from the second floor of the dorm to the basement where the side exit was, James couldn't help but feel he was part of an endangered species: someone who still believed in basic elements of chivalry. _Gah_, he thought, _here I am out at this ungodly hour to go see if someone is okay and if I do find anyone they'll probably be more annoyed than appreciative I show up. Top it off with class at 8:30 tomorrow and the fact that I'll probably wake Andrew on the way back in… why do I do this to myself?_

Putting his self-reflection in the back of his mind, James pushed open the door to the cool night air and was greeted by the dim luminescence of Ithaca's night, at least the on-campus version. There was hardly anywhere that was legitimately dark. The lights, either blue or orange, seemed to reach almost everywhere. One of the overhead streetlights flickered ominously as James stopped for a second to make sure he had his keys before letting the exit door gravitate slowly shut.

Just as the door slid back into place and made him aware of that fact with a distinct click, he heard it again. That scream. The air suddenly seemed very warm as goose bumps prickled down his spine and coated him in the little mounds. His sense of urgency now heightening, James took off at a jog around the north side of Landon Hall. He crossed the branching walkways behind the dorm and headed down toward the parking lot in front of the communications school, Park.

Unnaturally aware of the casual swishing of his jeans' pant legs running against themselves, James ran down a small hill and skidded to a halt looking down the walkway in front of the school. He could hear the blood in his head echo thunderously as all normal sounds one might associate with college nightlife vanished in the deafening wake of his throbbing heart. No wildlife. No cars. No students out for a late night stroll; just the beating of his heart… and that desperate cry.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I sprinted down the slope that led to the O parking lot. I may not be the fastest person, but the distance was short and I covered it easily. As I pivoted and ground to a stop the back of my mind seemed keenly aware I had probably just taken a half-centimeter of rubber off my shoes. My head was pounding and it was hard to concentrate. I blinked a couple of times to try to focus myself when I saw her.

She appeared to be pinned up against one of the large light posts that illuminate the parking lot, but nothing seemed to be holding her there. I couldn't tell what she looked like. She seemed almost… out of focus? I strained my eyes but still couldn't make out her features. There was some kind of bizarre heat haze distorting the air in front of the light post.

"Hey!" Are you alright?" I called, immediately cringing that I could say something like that when something was obviously very wrong. She appeared to be struggling for air, writhing against some unseen force that held her nearly twice her height above the ground.

I kicked into an urgent jog to close the distance between us. When I was about 15 feet from the pole I stumbled over something– a used can of Edge Eclipse shaving gel– sending it flying into the heat haze where, to my surprise, it bounced off of the air and rebounded back at me.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A.J. booked through the central parking lot, U lot, and down past west side of Park. She reached the bottom of the stairs leading to the parking lot and turned to her right. What she saw terrified her. She had never seen a Hollow before. Everyone that had been told to gather tonight was selected because they could see ghosts and spirits, but this was not what she signed up for.

The Hollow was vaguely humanoid in one sense, but some part of her brain told her it looked like a giant starfish. Standing erect of two of its massive legs, the Hollow held a girl up against one of the light posts. There was also a boy there, running toward the Hollow. _Can either of them see it?_ she thought to herself. The boy was running toward the Hollow when it looked like he kicked something at it. Whatever it was it was small, a little bit bigger than a golf ball, and it ricocheted off on of the Hollow's tree-trunk legs and hit the ground at the boy's feet, before rolling past him. His eyes followed the projectile as it tumbled to a stop at the foot of a young cherry blossom, one of many planted throughout the college.

_Idiot, don't take your eyes off it!_ she wanted to yell, but her voice got caught in her throat.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Darius Randall Quinn sprinted through parking lot U and reached the stairs on the west side of Park to find his charges rooted to the ground in the foreground, with the Hollow menacing the backdrop. Of course it wasn't the first time he had seen a Hollow. Randall was at the head of a new training program at Ithaca College. Soul Society knew that Ithaca and the surrounding area was a hotspot for spiritual activity and it was considered a good testing ground for the reitsu-exposure experiment. It was not universally accepted, but it was theorized that spirit energy acted like radiation in some sense, and people with latent talents and high-sensitivity to the spiritual worlds could have their abilities 'awakened' by exposure to high levels of spirit energy in crucial situations. The latest preliminary research indicated increased levels of norepinephrin were somehow relevant, and so fight-or-flight situations were crucial; simple routine exposure was not enough.

Quinn walked past his stunned pupils. He knew he needed to act soon, but while his job as a Death God demanded that he eliminate Hollows, protecting Pluses was simply important, not necessarily top priority. Once he had positioned himself in between them and the Hollow, even though it was a good hundred feet away, he addressed them. "Chances are this is your first time seeing a Hollow. It's some scary shit, maybe some freaky shit, but you agreed to do this, so listen up! I'm going to engage the Hollow. Form a circle around it. Remove the bystanders if you can, but stay relatively close. We don't know how many opportunities like this we'll have or how many it might require to see some change, so don't fuck up." He turned backed toward the Hollow before issuing his last instruction: "Isaac," he called to one of the other potentials he was caretaker for, "catch me."

"What–" Isaac started before Quinn's body fell backward into his arms, now limp from the absence of its soul. Quinn the Death God now stood before them, his pale skin marking a stark contrast with his obsidian robes. Hanging loosely from his hip was a standard katana.

"Let's go," he ordered in a voice that exuded authority, before sprinting toward the middle of the parking lot.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

James watched the Edge container roll to the base of a small tree behind him before refocusing his gaze and what he had assumed was some sort atmospheric distortion. He started to close the remaining distance between himself and the haze, extending his hand toward it when a shout from his left stopped him.

"What the hell are you doing!?" screamed an onrushing man dressed in all black. His face was cloaked in shadow and his hand went to something at his belt. "Get away from it!"

_Get away from what?_ James thought. _What the hell is this guy talking about?_

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Quinn moved as quickly as he could across the vacant lot, calling out to the boy there. "What the hell are you doing!?" He reached for his katana as he went, yelling to warn the seemingly clueless bystander. "Get away from it!" He knew it was probably a lost cause; Death Gods were like Hollows, invisible to the unaware.

When the distance between them was about 10 yards the boy turned, perhaps to acknowledge him or more likely due to the rest of the gang following behind him, casting him a quizzical glance and shrugging his shoulders, pointing to the girl on the post. His confused expression shifted to one of pained surprise when the Hollow finally appeared to take notice of his encroachment and unleashed a ferocious backhand swat with a free hand. The heavy-handed sweep caught the young man in the chest and catapulted him backward. He hurtled violently through to air before landing on and smashing the cherry blossom where the can of shaving gel had eventually stopped.

Randall saw A.J sidle her way around to the opposite side of Hollow before Isaac came up next to him to complete the circle of his pupils.

"You're body is hidden behind the Chevy Cobalt LS with the Jersey plates," Isaac informed his teacher.

"Alright. Let's begin." Randall cracked his knuckles and his neck as the Hollow surveyed its new opponent, its interest in its quarry momentarily lost.

"Shinigami?" it asked hesitantly, as if having just a hint of intelligence, but nonetheless trying to ascertain the nature of its new foe.

Quinn gave it no answer, circling slowly to get onto the hard sidewalk and position himself between the two pluses, his hand on his zanpakutō. He didn't know whether the Hollow was feigning ignorance or really was not certain he was a Death God. The Hollow's mask was located in the center of its mass, with the hole from its absent chain of fate resting squarely above the mask on the fifth appendage. Its eyes narrowed as it examined Quinn. Deeming him no immediate threat, the Hollow adjusted its position to view the rest of the circle, and that's when Quinn struck.

He drew his weapon and jumped in the same instant, calling upon his spirit energy to increase his speed and strength. He jumped and vaulted himself parallel to ground, landing feet first on the Hollow's mask, his knees bending compensate for the impact. Before the Hollow could reach he scythed down with his weapon and severed the tentacle holding the girl. As the objectionable appendage de-materialized he jumped off the Hollow and caught the girl, before rebounding off the light post and sending himself and the now unconscious girl over toward Isaac.

Quinn dumped her off unceremoniously in Isaac's arms as the Hollow howled in frustration behind him.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

James Meredith regained consciousness just enough the be aware of the searing pain coursing throughout his body and just in enough time to see Quinn handoff the girl to Isaac. _What the fuck is going on? Who are all these people?_ _And what in God's name hit me?_ James craned his neck to see over his rumpled hoodie and saw a kaleidoscope of purples and pinks in the heat haze, intermixed with flashes of white. He saw the man in black turn around to face the distortion, his bloodied sword held before him at the ready. _Wait, bloodied? And why I am seeing these colors? Am I concussed? I don't think I've ever had a concussion before_. _How lame must I sound right now?_

James watched the man roll to his right, toward James, as the vivid distortion flashed downward and concrete exploded where the man had been just moments earlier. Chips of the concrete pelted James' face, and he rolled over to present his back to the occurrence, unknowingly sweeping the Eclipse can into the pocket of his hoodie in the process.

One of the girls from the group sidled her way over to him, her eyes never leaving the Hollow. "Are you alright?" she asked when she arrived at the splintered sapling, reaching out to him with one hand while brushing a strand of wavy dark hair out of her face. Their eyes made contact for a fleeting moment before another spray of cement chips forced them to grab a hold of one another for even a meager amount of cover.

When the dust and debris settled they let go of one another, looking for the fighter to see if he was alright. The street light above cast two shadows, one normal, the other bloated and abnormally large. The girl tending to James breathed a small sigh of relief. James refocused on the shadows, trying to hold on to his slipping reality when the man disappeared. James eyes widened in shock as the man reappeared on the creature's back, his katana penetrating downward into the Hollow's core and piercing its ghoulish visage from the backside. Small cracks formed around the perforation in the mask where the blade had gone through, rapidly spreading and becoming larger. James' consciousness abandoned him to an abyss of darkness just before the mask shattered entirely, purging the sins of the Hollow and releasing its soul to the afterlife.

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THIS IS NOT A CONTINUATION OF THE STORY! IF YOU WANT THE SECOND CHAPTER, DONT READ THIS! JUST MOVE ON. With that out of the way, I realized people weren't reading beyond the first chapter and I needed to change the structure if I wanted more people to give it a try, so I moved the forward here. Now, for what originally came first:

First, allow me to preface this by saying that I do not own the rights to any of the characters, ideas, settings, etc. from _Bleach_. Those rights belong to Tite Kubo, Shueisha, or whoever is appropriate. If anyone can tell me exactly who has the rights to _Bleach_ so I could verify this, I would appreciate it.

Second, it is my hope that you won't have to be obsessed with _Bleach_ to understand, appreciate, or like this fan-fiction. The more _Bleach_ you watch the more you are likely to understand, but it is my aspiration that you will only have to watch the first 10 or so episodes to really understand most of what occurs in the story. I may or may not try t explain specific elements as I go so non-_Bleach_ fans can appreciate this story as well (similar to how J.K Rowling tries to explain the more basic elements of the _Harry Potter_ series in each book so that the series could technically be picked up in the middle and understood). On the flip side, while this story borrows the ideas and concepts established in the _Bleach _anime and manga, this is an entirely original piece of writing in terms of characters (as of now). That means that if you want to read about Kurosaki Ichigo and company, you are in the wrong place.

Third, I am a student at Ithaca College and I love it here. Don't assume that what is opined by my characters is necessarily an accurate reflection of my personal beliefs.

Fourth, I had initially planned to run this by a few beta-readers, but since I'm writing this mostly for myself at this point, I decided to leave it unfiltered, bar one beta. That person did not like the shifts in perspective (first- to third-person and vice versa). As a result of my decision, I accept the fact that there may be some spelling or grammar errors, plot discontinuities, and other mistakes. If you see any of the aforementioned slip-ups, have any comment or suggestion, or if you agree with my beta, please tell me. I may have chosen not to employ (m)any beta-readers but that does not mean that I don't appreciate feedback.

Onward to victory! Or chapter two...


	2. Aftermath

Randall Quinn stood in the center of what had just moments ago been his battlefield and sighed. One Hollow purged, two humans saved, and what? He shot a quick glance at Erin, who was attending to the boy and then adjusted his gaze to Isaac, who had set the girl down on the grass and was retrieving his teacher's body. Quinn wiped his katana on the dewy grass before sheathing it and walking over to Erin.

"How is he?" Randall inquired, his tone impassive.

"Not so good, but it could be a lot worse. It's actually quite a surprise to be honest. He'll have massive bruising on both his back where he landed on the tree and on his abdomen where he took the first hit but other than that…" her voice trailed and she shrugged at him.

"Hmm." Randall pursed his lips and put his chin into his hand, mulling over the scenario. Before he could get too invested in his thoughts Isaac tapped him on the shoulder and Randall turned around to see his body slung awkwardly over Isaac's shoulder in an impromptu fireman's carry.

"What do you want me to…" Isaac started as he hefted Randall's body, obviously a bit uncomfortable with the two Quinns.

"Ah. Here pass me it," Randall said, taking his body and setting it down on the grass before re-entering it. The whole of his audience stared at him as he went through this process. He just seemed to match himself over himself and then the matte-black robes of the Death God disappeared and it was just Quinn sitting there on the grass.

Quinn stood up, reaching into the left pocket of his jeans for a pack of cigarettes. He removed one and then after replacing the pack, withdrew a Zippo® from his other pocket. He swung it down forcefully along the edge of his pant leg, the action opening the lighter and igniting it in one fluid motion. He cupped the lighter and brought it to the cigarette pinched between his lips. Flicking the lighter shut he puffed pensively on the cigarette and looked back at the two humans.

"Alright, gather around. I'm not going to say this twice, so listen carefully. Roseanna, go the storage room and grab a memory modifier. Meet the rest of us behind the east side of the Administration Annex," Quinn continued, gesturing to a drab modular building that was next to Park with one hand while dragging on his Marlboro with the other. "Isaac, grab the boy and carry him over there. Erin and Red," he continued, Red increasingly becoming his choice name for A.J, "get the girl. They seem well enough to move them so let's do this. I have to call this in and get a crew here to take care of this damage." He paused for a second as he continued surveying his assets before coming to Iris, her scarlet blanket wrapped around her shivering, barefoot form. "Iris, for God's sake get some shoes, what the fuck were you thinking?" Xavier," he began, addressing the last member of their group, a stocky Spanish transfer student, "run ahead and make sure that side of the annex is vacant." Seemingly done giving orders Quinn tossed the used stub of his cigarette on the ground and gave the command that sent his rag-tag band scurrying every which way: "Move!"

Roseanna ceased fidgeting and ran off to get the memory modifier. Xavier and Iris also took off, Xavier in a new direction toward the far side of the annex and Iris after Roseanna.

Randall took a few small moments to breathe in the cool night air before trudging off after his subordinates. He dug into his pocket and flipped open his cell phone. The campus president was not going to like this call…

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"Done? I haven't even gotten started yet!" roared Ithaca College president, a man by the name of John Scott Chatwood. He had essentially been ordered by his boss to bend over backward to do everything this man, one Mr. Quinn, said. But they had met briefly and Mr. Chatwood had not come away with the best impression…

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John Chatwood was been reading to his children, Thomas, age 5, and Collis, age 3. Tonight's story was _The Little Engine That Could_, by request.

"I think I can, I think I can," John read, his older son paying rapt attention, while the younger Collis had fallen asleep with his head in his father's lap, his thumb in his mouth. All of a sudden the phone rang, drawing Thomas' attention and causing John to take a momentary break in his reading.

"I'll get it!" his wife called, even as her footsteps reverberated throughout their soon-to-be-sold house off the hardwood floors. She reached the phone and gave an automated: "Chatwood residence, may I ask who's calling?"

Whoever happened to be on the other line seemed to give her the wrong impression, which was reflected in her second call to her husband. "John, its for you. Said his name was Mr. Quinn?" Her voiced seemed both a tad shaky and a little bit uncertain.

"Alright, honey, I'm coming." John slid Collis' head gently off his lap and slid off the other side of the bed. "We'll finish this story tomorrow, Tommy," he told Thomas, who yawned his agreement. "I'll ask your mom to come up and tuck you in, okay?"

John walked somewhat brusquely downstairs; he was interested in talking to this Mr. Quinn, who had been told was about the equivalent of his boss. The difference was that his instructions would be periodic and were to be completed with no questions asked.

"The kids are upstairs waiting to be tucked in," he told his wife as he took the phone from her. John waited until his wife was upstairs before uncovering the receiver and beginning their conversation.

"Hello?" John began tentatively.

"Mr. Chatwood," the other voice said. It seemed very distinct to John, perhaps a little on the high side with just a subtle hint of being gravelly. "Go outside."

"Wait, why do I need to go outside? You know, I'd like to meet the man I'm expected to just follow blindly before taking orders from him. Can't we arrange to talk sometime, maybe at coffee shop or something?

"That's what I'm doing, Mr. Chatwood," the voice responded. "You don't even need shoes, just come out on to your porch," it continued, calling his attention to the budding rain before the line went dead.

Chills went down John's spine as he looked toward the front door. He did not see anyone in the windows, either. "Honey?" he called cautiously, making sure his wife was alright, the situation now beginning to startle him a bit.

"Yes?" she called down back to him.

"I'm going to take a quick walk before the rain picks up, okay?"

"Alright, should I wait up for you?"

"No, I might be a little while."

"Okay, be safe!"

John went to the door and gingerly pulled it open before stepping out onto the porch. He looked out down their small drive way and over the left side of the porch, the phone still clasped in hand. He started to hit re-dial when a voice behind him made him jump, quite literally, a foot in the air.

"That's won't be necessary, Mr. Chatwood."

John whirled around to see a sketchy-looking young man in a dark rain poncho sitting in the rocking chair they had on their porch. The chair swayed back and forth gently in time with the wind.

"You're Mr. Quinn?" John began, trying to build back some of his nerve. The man kept rocking and gave him an almost imperceptible nod.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't come to my house like this," John continued, building up some steam. "And I would like you to get out of my chair," he added, this time a little more forcefully. John knew that it would be unwise to start on the wrong foot with a superior, but this man had broken every rule of protocol that John knew.

The other man rose to his feet and gave John his petty victory before reaching into his pockets. John reflexively tensed himself, which caused the other man to laugh. He pulled out a cigarette and a lighter, a cheap Bic®, and laughed at John's reaction.

Even as John felt his face flush he was again caught off guard when Mr. Quinn offered him a cigarette. "Care for a smoke?"

"No. And I would appreciate it if you would not smoke in my residence."

Mr. Quinn ignored him, lighting the cigarette and returning the lighter to the depths of a pocket. He pulled down his hood to reveal someone who might have been a college student. He had close-cropped dark hair and a sharp, angular face. After taking a short drag on his cigarette Mr. Quinn shifted it to his left hand and extended his right to Mr. Chatwood.

"It seems we've gotten off on the wrong foot. I'm Darius Randall Quinn, that's Mr. Quinn to you, Randall if you insist, but never Darius. Understand?"

Letting the cigarette go for a moment, John stared warily at the proffered hand as if it might turn into a snake and bite him. After a few moments in which the rain drummed out a staccato rhythm on the roof, John accepted the handshake. "John Chatwood. Now if you don't mind, Mr. Quinn, could you tell me what exactly it is you do? "Peter," he began, referring to his actual boss, "told me I was to do exactly what you say. Now I understand what Peter does, but why do I have to answer to _you_ as well?"

"The short answer is you don't. I will have periodic assignments for you, but our communication will be irregular, sporadic, and one-way. And, if we're lucky, I won't be needing anything from you during your time as president."

"What do you mean if we're lucky? And what qualifies you to be my boss? What about feedback?"

"What exactly did Peter tell you about me?" Randall interrupted, cutting him off. His cold, steel gray eye bored holes into John's.

"I don't know," John started, turning away from that awful glare. He didn't feel safe turning his back to this man, but those eyes… "Something about me not wanting know and no questions asked, but–"

"Bingo, no questions asked. Just do as I say if you want to protect your livelihood and your family."

John spun around again, demanding to know, "Did you just threaten my fami–," but the porch was empty. The only thing to even suggest that the other man had been there was a smoking cigarette butt left in the middle of the porch. John looked out toward the driveway but saw nothing. He then went inside and checked every room in the house twice before being satisfied that the man was gone. Finally, instead of returning to bed, he fell asleep in the rocking chair on the porch, standing guard over his house.

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"I still don't understand why I'm supposed to acquiesce to all of your demands, I mean, who the hell are you anyway? Who do you think you are? Do you have any idea what time it is? Where am I supposed to find a construction crew that will pour cement in Ithaca at one o'clock in the morning?" When Mr. Chatwood had finally been forced to stop because he ran out of breath he heard the empty buzzing of an ended call, which only prompted a further: "Son of a bitch!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Quinn was trying to finish his 'conversation' with the president when Roseanna returned with the memory modifier.

"Are you done yet?" Randall asked in the cell phone, obviously quite bored with the proceedings.

"Done? I haven't even gotten started!" the president's voice came through Quinn's phone quite loudly, prompting him to pull it away from his ear. "I still don't understand why I'm supposed to acquiesce to all of your demands, I mean, who the hell are you anyway-" was all he got out before Randall clapped his phone shut and killed the connection. He looked at his students to see them staring at his phone in his outstretched hand.

"Quit gawking. Roseanna, the device?"

Roseanna came over with what looked like a small flashlight and handed it delicately to Randall. Randall took the proffered device and walked over to the prone bodies of the two unfortunate victims. He carefully unsealed the lid off of the object to reveal what looked very much like an ordinary flashlight.

"_That's_ the memory modifier?" Iris asked skeptically.

"Shut up and listen because I won't say this more than once. You all should be watching or have watched _Bleach_ at this point. As you should know, _Bleach_ is a publication created by real-life Death Gods to create awareness about our work and to act as a teaching medium for new Shinigami," he added, using the Japanese lingo almost second-naturedly. "In the series, the kikanshinki is a silly looking device that has a cuckoo's head on a spring. In reality, this 'flashlight' only has to be shown into the eyes of the target briefly while concentrating on the time frame or person in question in order to work its magic. It isn't convenient to have something so awkward looking as the serialized depiction because it draws attention. The alternative are these tablets," he said, pulling a small packet of what looked like Alka-Seltzer® tablets out of the back of the 'flashlight' where the batteries would be. "If for some reason there is a technical failure, break one of these under the subject's nose and the vapors released should clear out most of the last day or so."

He replaced the capsules and knelt over the girl. She had a bit of spirit energy, perhaps enough to warrant an attack but it was more was likely that she was simply the closest living thing in the area when the Hollow materialized. Randall pried open her eyelids and briefly flashed her pupils with the kikanshinki.

"The kikanshinki," Randall expounded, "then works in conjunction with the target's subconscious to create new memories to fill in the gap. The memories created are independent to the target based on their own personal belief systems, values, imaginations, et cetera."

Moving over to the boy Randall repeated the process, shining the kikanshinki briefly into his vivid green eyes. He didn't seem to have much spirit energy, either. "Alright. Check them for ID."

After a few moments of pocket fishing an ID card was held up to a streetlight.

"We've got Andrea Piotrowska here" Roseanna stated, giving the girl's name.

"The guy doesn't have any ID, but his key goes to Landon," Xavier added.

Randall thought for a moment. "Alright. Isaac and Xavier take the guy back to his room. If his roomie is there just tell him you don't know what happened, you just found him in pretty bad shape and decided to be good Samaritans. A.J. and Iris, the same with Ms. Poland and then get some sleep."

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10/21/2008 - Made a few small grammatical changes.


	3. Interlude: When I Realized I Was a Ninja

Alright, I've been wanting to update but school is killing me. I had two mid-terms and an essay in three days and then fall break, so writing has fallen a little bit by the wayside. I have made some corrections to the previous two chapters, so hopefully that smoothes over the big picture. In general, ideas keep coming to me but putting them all together in a coherent passage that I like takes time and energy, so all I can put up for now is this older passage. I wrote this almost immediately after the occurrence it describes and now this premise has snowballed into a more central part of this story. So this is a little prelude/foreshadowing while at this same time an effort to hold down the fort until I can get the next chapter put together.

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When I Realized I Was a Ninja

I had just gotten back from two back-to-back morning classes. It was maybe just after eleven o'clock; I was getting situated in my room, checking my e-mail to see if anything important had come through. After I had checked both my Yahoo and Ithaca accounts, the lingering feeling of needing to drop a deuce made a sudden surge, and I realized I could ignore it no longer. I opened the door to the hallway and heard someone in the bathroom.

I cannot say I am a big fan of community bathrooms. Bathrooms should be private places, and there's nothing more awkward, at least for me, than having to take a crap in a public restroom. So I waited a few seconds. My sandals were wet from taking a shower earlier in the morning and I had socks on, so I had to decide whether to take off my socks and go in with wet sandals or go in with just socks. The squelching of the waterlogged sandals probably wouldn't have helped my case for anonymity, so I abandoned the idea. I heard whoever was in the bathroom pull the flimsy shower curtain that separated the shower room from the common bathroom and I made my move.

I darted in, padding silently on my thin socks over the sporadically wet tiles. I slid the latch on the stall shut just after the shower started, hiding the grate of metal on metal in the cacophony of falling water. I settled down to do my business in as much silence as possible. I noticed there was a new poster on the stall door, which I began reading, since I didn't have anything else to do. I had already seen this poster before, but I read it in more detail now, and I finished the first sections on acceptable dorm room items when the shower stopped, just minutes after starting. I made it to the 'Further Restrictions' segment and was thinking that piggy-backing (putting one surge-protector into another), while potentially unsafe was an interesting idea, and 'why didn't I think of that?' when the other occupant strode out of the bathroom, shutting off the lights as he went, as is customary when the bathroom is empty. Then, with my reading interrupted by the sudden dim, was when I realized I was a ninja.

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Corny, I know. Anyway, more updates. If you haven't figured it out, I'm watching the subbed version of the Bleach anime, so if the presentation of names or switching between shinigami and Death God bothers you, I'm sorry, but not really. I'm on episode 120 right now if you've finished the series and are wondering where my perspective is at. I've made spelling/grammatical corrections in the other two chapters and I touched up the abstract to try to draw more readers. This is the old one:

A Bleach/real life cross-over where new wave Shinigami protect a college-town New York university from Hollows and more. Featuring all original characters. Some artistic liberties were taken but if you like Bleach I should think you'll enjoy this as well.

If you think that is better I'd appreciate the feedback but otherwise I'll stick the new one. I also moved the forward to the end of chapter one in the attempt to trick more people into reading my shit.


	4. The Last of the Salad Days

James' asshole was on fire. He knew it had to be the Papa Johns. There were no other irregularities, nothing else that he hadn't eaten before and been fine with, although he supposed the same thing could be said of Papa Johns. Still, it was the only thing he had eaten recently that he thought might have done this to him. _First bad service and now this?_ He made a mental note that no matter how good the food might be he would try to avoid the temptations of late-night garlic butter delight whenever he could manage it. Beside, it was just too expensive.

It wasn't really in the same vein as what he was experiencing now, but pain had become somewhat of a regularity for him recently. Ever since that night where he had been mugged and beaten to a pulp about three weeks ago, he'd been feeling a bit under the weather in one way or another. He had re-aggravated his back, something that had been wrong with him for a long time. He had never quite figured out what it was but this time it hadn't lasted long so he was more than willing to overlook it. His wrist had also been hurting him lately, which he thought was odd. He hadn't felt this kind of pain since he had sprained his wrist trying to do handstands in middle school.

Someone else walked in to the bathroom and settled down in the stall next to James. Whoever it was signaled their intentions with a short, staccato expulsion of gas that sounded like an out-of-tune trumpet. Not wanting to stick around for any duration of time, James quickly finished his business, washed his hands, and splashed some water on his dehydrated face. Having to splash himself with water every couple of hours was becoming a weary task, and he hoped whatever was causing the dehydration would resolve itself soon. Once he had finished, he started to walk toward Phillips Hall. He figured he would eat real quickly, jet over to the fitness center to clock in, and then run down Emerson Field to ref the soccer game he had signed up for.

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Roseanna, Erin, and A.J. were eating lunch together in the Campus Center dining hall. They were tucked away in a corner, talking about Quinn. He was a frequent topic of conversation amongst them.

"I just don't understand how he can be so calm," Roseanna started. "I mean," she began again before lowering her voice and taking a quick peak at the surrounding people, "We have seen three Hollows now. Every time we see one all I want to do it cuddle into a little ball and hide."

"And he just dispatches them without breaking a sweat," A.J. said, finishing Roseanna's unspoken thought for her.

"I don't know," Erin began, "it's not he's even done anything special. Really though, he hasn't even released his _shikai_ yet. I know the Hollows have been kind of big, but I don't think anything we've seen isn't anything we couldn't overcome as a team."

"You would say that, Erin," Roseanna answered her, "you're really good at this. I can even make smoke when I try to use _kidou_, and you've used White Lightning. That's level four," Roseanna added despairingly, sinking her head into her chest.

Erin blushed a little bit and dipped her head. "I'm just saying," she continued, this time a little bit more subdued, "I don't see what's so great about him. I think he's a bit of an asshole."

"What about you, Iris?" A.J. asked as the smaller girl as she returned to the table with a salad.

"What about what?" she queried.

"Quinn," Erin said, filling her in.

"I think he's hot."

Roseanna looked at Iris like she had shot her in the face with a packet of ketchup. "Eww, gross! Not what we were talking about. Besides, he smokes. Like, all the time. I don't find him attractive at all."

"I don't know," A.J. countered, "I can see it. I mean, I don't find him attractive myself, but he's got that roguish daredevil persona, so I suppose I can understand where Iris is coming from."

All three of them looked at Erin, expecting her to pass the final judgment. Erin, who had gone back to her food, was twiddling with her salad for a few seconds before she realized everyone was looking at her. "What?"

In unison the other three heaved an exasperated sigh and each went back to their food. "Weren't you paying attention at all?" Roseanna admonished her, albeit in only a semi-serious manner. "You know what, forget it, I don't even want to talk about it."

After a few moments silence, Roseanna thought she felt the tiniest tingle of reitsu shoot out from a boy a few tables down from them. "Guys, did any of you feel that?"

"Feel what?" A.J. asked.

"Never mind, it's just that I could've sworn I felt someone release a tiny bit of spirit energy just now…" Her voice trailed off as she looked a little bit harder at the boy. He had longish blond hair and was wearing some sort of red soccer jersey. He was kind of cute, she thought to herself. She let her gaze drift off into space as she tried to recollect the exact moment of the spirit energy flare. It happened… right as he took his first bite of food? She looked at his plate to see if there was anything unique on it, but was disappointed. She wasn't sure what she was expecting but hotdogs and potato chips surely weren't it.

Roseanna gave Erin a little nudge in the ribs with her elbow. "Erin. Wave at that guy, the one in red. See if you can get him to come over here."

"Me? If you want him over here that badly you do it!"

"No, you're the attractive one, he'll be more likely to come if you do it!"

"That's not true, but fine." Erin waited until the boy looked away from the dining hall's relatively large television playing re-runs of ESPN's SportsCenter© before throwing him a tiny wave.

"Did he see it?" Roseanna asked anxiously.

"I think so. He looked like he was going to wave back but then got embarrassed or thought I was waving at someone else."

"Let's just wait. Maybe I was wrong." Roseanna told them, now genuinely doubting whether she had actually felt a reitsu flare, as none of the others had.

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James had settled down with his food, two hotdogs, a handful of potato chips, and a glass of root beer, just something to be snarfed down fairly quickly before work, when he thought he saw a girl in the corner wave to him when he looked her way.

_Is she waving at me? _he thought to himself. He looked behind him to see if there way anyone else there before he started to return the wave, but his inhibitions got the best of him and he snatched his hand out of the air and just went to work on his hotdog. _Really, there's no point in going over there since I only have about 10 minutes to eat anyway. And what if I'm wrong? I'll look like an overbearing dumbass._ So James stayed put, finished his hotdog, and then ran off the work.

In truth James' reaction was probably overly critical of himself, but he had never been the most sociable person. Besides, going over to talk to four girls when he didn't know any of them might be a little intimidating for anyone. And then he might actually look like a jackass if he went over only to leave in five minutes to go work…

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James came back into the room after the soccer game to find Andrew lying on his bed, talking to a girl from back home, trying to get her to come to Ithaca.

"No, Kirstin, really, Stony Brook is an awful university. The only kids that go there are ones who didn't get in to any of their top choice schools." There was a moments pause as she answered his banter before he responded: "You know what, I hope you don't get accepted in Stony Brook or any of your other schools so that you have to come to Ithaca. James, isn't Stony Brook not a good school?" he asked his roommate as he walked in.

"Actually I know a guy who's going there on a lacrosse scholarship and a lot of my class went there. It's a good school."

"Whatever Kirstin, you didn't hear that. Besides, James has no clue what he's talking about. He's just saying that because I'm the one asking him."

Chuckling inwardly, James threw his official's shirt into his laundry basket and grabbed a towel and some toiletries. He slid out of his socks and into his sandals and sauntered slowly in the bathroom to take a shower.

"Oh!" Andrew yelled after him, "Will and Levi are coming over in a minute, okay?"

"Whatever," James called back over his shoulder. He liked Will a bit, but Levi smoked too much for his liking. That wouldn't be a problem while they were in the building, so James let it go.

James entered the bathroom and threw his towel over the shower door. He pulled the dividing curtain that separated the showers from the bathroom closed and then stepped into the shower. He closed the shower door, undressed, and twisted the dial, sending a stream of scalding water onto his back.

"Holy shit!" he cursed, twisting violently away from the showerhead and rotating the dial to a cooler setting. "What the fuck!"

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Meanwhile, on the campus quad, Roseanna had been playing Frisbee with some friends from her dorm when she felt another sharp spike in spirit energy. "Second time today," she said absentmindedly to herself, while looking of in the direction of the lower quad, where the burst had come from.

"Roseanna, heads!" someone cried from across the green, drawing Roseanna's attention just in time for her to turn into the oncoming Frisbee and take a firm whack on the nose. She crumpled awkwardly into a heap, her long, bronzed legs splayed out on the grass as she put her hand tentatively to her nose. When she withdrew it there was blood there.

"Oh my God, Roseanna, I'm so sorry, I thought you were paying attention, are you okay?" a girl named Kelly said, running over to Roseanna to help her up.

"It's okay, I'm fine." She put her hand back up to her nose to staunch the bleeding. "I'll just run to the bathroom and clean up."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"No, I'm fine, really." Roseanna said quickly. _Maybe a little too quickly_, she thought to herself. "I appreciate the offer, Kelly, but it's fine. I'll be out in a minute," she told the other girl, her voice sounding funny to her through her pinched nose. Truthfully, while she didn't really dislike Kelly, she found the other girl to be a bit too hyperactive. Besides, she needed to call Erin and tell her to about this…

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"You're sure?" Erin asked over her Razr©.

"Yeah, it's Landon. Second floor, as in not the ground floor but the one above that; room 215," Roseanna informed her. "I just want to see if the guy from the first Hollow scene is the same guy we saw in the dining hall."

"Alright, what do you want, the guy's name?"

"Yeah, I just called Quinn and he said that was the room but he couldn't be bothered to look up the guy's name. He's convinced he's a nobody, but I'm not sure. If you do this, I'll owe you big."

"Okay, but you owe me really big."

"Thanks, Erin. I knew I could count on you," Roseanna said before she hung up the phone. Normally Roseanna wouldn't ask something like this of someone else but she was trying to clean up her nose at the moment. Furthermore, she'd been feeling this reitsu flares for a while, almost since the first incident with the girl in front of Park. It had been happening enough that Roseanna thought it was worth investigating, and in the dining hall had been the first time she had been able to pinpoint the flare with a person. The boy from the dining hall looked a little bit like the first guy from Landon and with these kinds of things Roseanna had learned that there weren't many coincidences...

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Erin wasn't sure what Roseanna saw in this guy, because she had most definitely not sensed anything in the dining hall or just now, but Roseanna seemed the most in-tune with the spiritual world out of all of them. She might not have harnessed her energy to the same extent that Erin had, but Roseanna had been seeing spirits since she was really young, a lot younger than Erin had started seeing them. Erin didn't know if that was an indication of talent or ability, but she trusted Roseanna.

She walked down to Landon from upper quad and then waited outside Landon pretending to talk on her cell phone and fiddle for her keys until someone came along and let her in. _Really_, she thought, _security is so lax around here_. She made her way up the flight of stairs and then through the door to the odd-numbered wing. She found room 215 and to her mild surprise it was open. Inside were three guys playing Call of Duty 4. She recognized it because her old boyfriend had played it quite a bit before they broke up. She had mostly gotten over him but her face was still looked a bit somber when she poked her head into the door and cleared her throat to draw their attention. One of them, a big guy, paused the game, and they all turned around to look at her.

She looked back at them, inspecting each of them in turn, before the bigger one asked her, "Are you looking for James?"

Not seeing anyone who looked like her quarry among them, she decided to gamble on it. "Yeah, can you tell me where he is?"

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Andrew was surprised to see the girl in the doorframe but pleasantly surprised because she was kind of cute. She had a hoodie on so it was hard to tell exactly what she looked like, but she was definitely fit. He asked if she was looking for James in the hope of striking up a conversation, since James had never had any girls over to the room. Andrew knew James didn't know anyone up at Ithaca so he figured it was unlikely she was looking for him. Her yes took him by surprise just a bit but he recovered adroitly and told her James was in the shower and that she was welcome to stay and talk with them until he finished.

"No, that's alright, I'll come by later," she told him before spinning out of sight.

"Who should I say came looking for him?" Andrew yelled after her, in a last fleeting attempt to get her name, but there was no response. "Damn, James, you lucky bastard…" he intoned under his breath, before looking at Will and Levi, shaking his head and shrugging.

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Erin went around to the other side of the wing to convince the trio of boys she had actually left before darting into the bathroom from the other side. She was sure there were some rules against something like this but there were always double standards.

There was only one shower going. There was a pair of jeans and a towel swung over the opaque door that enclosed the bather.

Erin grabbed the towel and leaned back against the wall just outside the shower to wait for the boy to notice.

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James was rinsing shampoo out of his hair when he looked up to realize his towel had been swiped.

"What the fuck…" he mulled over his possible options before decided on an approach. "Hey, put my towel back," he called over the door, hoping that perhaps is was an honest mistake, but not really expecting anyone to be there.

"Not until you tell me your name!" a voice responded. He thought it might have been a girl's voice but the din of the shower made it difficult to tell.

"Alright, seriously, I'm going to count to three," he said, his voice changing from surprised to resigned, "If my towel is not back by the third count, I'm going to step out of this shower, naked or otherwise, and kick your ass!" he finished, his voice crescendoing back up to an irate half-yell.

Nothing happened immediately, so James' started counting, feeling like an idiot but too incensed to stop now. "One. Two…"

James decided to get the jump on whoever it was and he opened the door before the third count and stuck his head out, right into the face of the waving girl from the dining hall.

"You!" he proclaimed, startled a bit since she had been right in his face as soon as he opened the door.

She looked equally rattled and took a quick step back, before holding his towel out tauntingly. _I__t's probably the same guy_, Erin thought to herself_._ His hair looked a light brown on account of being drenched, not that dissimilar from her own, and it seemed shorter, although the water might have been playing a part in that as well.

"Name, then towel," she said, grinning wickedly, "or do you feel like exposing yourself to me?"

James, concealed behind the opaque shower door, was a little bit of at a loss for words. He thought about making a lunge for the towel but decided against it.

"Alright," he began, his blood settling down and his voice dropping. "I tell you my name. You give me the towel. You tell me your name, and then you tell me why you're doing this."

"One and two, yes, three maybe, four no," she responded playfully, obviously enjoying his discomfort.

James cocked his head quizzically to the side and regarded her for a few seconds. If he was trying to make her uncomfortable he failed, and so he agreed to her terms. "James Meredith."

She started to hand him the towel before pulling it back. "Middle name?"

"Not part of the deal. You would have to specify something like that."

It was Erin's turn to evaluate her opponent, and she locked gazes with his baby-blue eyes before throwing him the towel. "I'm Erin. You get the last name later, if things pan out perhaps."

"What things? What are you talking about?" James asked as he snagged the towel out of the air. He reached back into the shower to turn off the water. "No answer, huh?" He wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower only to find the girl had taken off.

"Erin, huh?" he said to himself, before retreating to the shower and toweling off. "I swear I've seen her before today…"

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_So it is the same guy_, Erin thought to herself as she walked away from Landon. It was his eyes that reminded her. She had been the one to see if he was okay that night… _That's the third time_, she thought to herself._ First the first Hollow, then the dining hall, and now this shower incident. Once, chance; two, coincidence; three, pattern_, she thought to herself as she dug into her pocket for her phone.

She flipped open the cell phone, hit 4 and the pressed sending, calling Roseanna.

"Did you find him?" the other girl asked before Erin could say anything.

"Yeah."

"And…?"

"It's the same guy from the first Hollow. But he's got no spirit energy. He's utterly unremarkable, at least in terms of spirit energy."

"But I know I felt something!" Roseanna responded despairingly.

"And I believe you," Erin crooned gently, not wanting to upset the other girl, "I'm just saying Quinn probably won't buy it."

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	5. Simple Mathematics

James rolled over and looked up at the ceiling. It seemed fuzzy to him, and it was more than just the numerous tiny crags scattered throughout the surface. Having just woken up and having yet to put in his contact lenses, James was legally blind. Or _if I'm not_, he thought to himself_, they should refine the definition_. James rolled over again and pulled his iPod touch® out from under his pillow and hit a button, calling up the time. 7:31. He had beaten his alarm clock by about eight minutes.

After getting out of bed, getting dressed, and putting his contacts in, James gathered his school materials. Normally he wouldn't be up this early, but he had a math test in which the teacher was allowing students to come in an hour early to take the test. If he was to keep up his good work that had been so lacking in high school, this was an opportunity he couldn't afford to miss.

James left Landon via the side entrance and crossed the parking lot towards Williams. It was cold, as was befitting of upstate New York in mid-autumn, and James could see his breath on the frigid morning air. He bounced gainfully across the lot, Mos Def's _Simple Mathematics_ playing in his head as he thought about derivates and the chain rule.

As he approached Williams he saw a couple holding hands. _They might even be cute together_, he thought, _if it wasn't for the cigarettes_. Even as their inner hands remained clasped tightly together, their respective outer hands were cupped in carbon-copy curves with cigarettes entrenched firmly between their fingers. James held his breath as he walked past and, his sandals flitting cantankerous against the cold cement. He probably should have worn real shoes, but he was already up early to take this test; he couldn't be bothered to be more ambitious than that.

James looked down at his iPod® as he entered the building, navigating his way to the calendar to double-check the classroom, even though it was always the same. He stopped briefly before the second of two automatic doors until a small hiss told him the door had opened. He stepped across the threshold and was about to walk up the stairs to his class when he saw him.

He stood there, leaning against the wall, his eye boring holes into James. Their gazes locked momentarily, and James held the other's silver-gray eyes for a few seconds before sweeping his field of vision over the man's odd attire. He wore a black robe; it might have been a kimono or something like that but James wasn't particularly familiar with clothing in general, let alone another culture's. James thought the man's style of dress was a little odd but he disregarded it and turned to go up to his class. He had wheeled around and taken half a step when the stranger finally said something, and it was not a request. "Stop."

James froze. His hairs stood up on end and he wanted to run. He was surprised by that internal reaction. Running from fights wasn't new to him; he knew to pick his battles, but this man was different. There was something intangible and intimidating about him. James had never felt threatened by Andrew, and he gave up about half a foot and 80 pounds to Andrew. So what was about this man, who actually might have been slightly smaller than James?

_Run. _James didn't know where it came from, but this new voice seemed to reflect his desire, and he was sorely tempted to listen to it._ No, _James thought forcefully. _I have no reason to run. I will find out who he is and what he wants with me._

_Don't do it_, the other voice argued, it words appearing formlessly in his mind. _You owe him nothing. Turn around and walk away_. _You have a test to take_, it said, appealing to the practical side of him after the emotional approach failed.

James pushed this new side of him to the back of his mind and turned to face the other. "What?" he asked cautiously, although there was a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Hmm…" the other man said, putting his chin into his hand and looking away from James. He continued talking, looking back at James but seemingly talking over him: "So there is something to you. I know I went over your profile more than once but yet, there's nothing…" He stopped is closed his eyes as if in concentration.

James didn't see this going anywhere useful, and started to turn away when a hand landed on his shoulder. James acted reflexively, twisting away and grabbing the man's hand, twisting it backwards to gain the upper hand. Or at least that's what he thought would happen. He had gotten as far as turning around and grabbing the man's hand when it retracted like lightning. James stared at him, open hostility now permeating the air.

They stood at a deadlock for a few moments until the black-clad man relaxed. James didn't do the same until he saw the rest of the people in the foyer looking at him strangely.

"They can't see me," the other man replied.

James looked back at him, then at everyone else, then back at the other man again.

"They can't hear me either. Meet me under the tent on the quad at midnight tonight. I'll explain everything.

James studied the other man, sizing up him and his offer. He looked back at the crowd for a second. It had continued to file up the stairs after his momentary disruption, and when he looked back again the other man was gone. James stood there for a second and passed a quick shudder. He tried to re-focus himself as he began trudging up the stairs, but his mind refused to wander from a single question: _Who the fuck was that?_


	6. No Time Like the Present

"So why am I here again?" Roseanna asked Quinn as the two of the stood in the center of Ithaca's quad, looking north toward Landon Hall.

"James and I didn't exactly part amicably this morning. I can't even be sure he'll show, though I thought his curiosity might get the better of him. Either way, thought having a third party might make things run a bit smoother," Quinn told her.

"Then why not Erin or Iris? Isaac? Xavier?" she continued, her voice growing more exasperated with each name.

"I wanted a girl," Quinn responded, "in part to set him at ease and before you protest again," he continued, cutting her off before she could object once more, "I wanted you to get a chance to be closer to him." He ignored the sarcastic roll of her eyes and kept going: "You're the one who said you noticed something in the dining hall. Erin went to go check him out on your information, which no one else validated. " This made Roseanna straighten a bit and resume a more serious posture. "I don't know what it is about you, or what it is about him that is making this situation so difficult, but…" His voice trailed off, leaving the thought unfinished.

"So I'm what, meek-looking first and competent second?"

Quinn ignored her and returned his gaze to Landon. Roseanna fumed silently for a few seconds before turning that way too, and the pair stared as the entrance in silence.

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Ten minutes to midnight. There's still a little bit of a buzz about the campus. Almost everything on campus is closed, so there aren't too many people out and about, but the numbers are still dwindling from a relatively active eleven o'clock. James was up in the Hill Center for a soccer game, which meant he would approach the quad from the opposite direction than if he was coming from Landon. _I should probably get going_, he thought to himself. _I'm not sure fashionably late is the right way to approach this guy_.

As he made his way down the giant hill the campus was built on, he spared a second to look up at Ithaca's remarkably clear night sky and locate a couple constellations. Before he knew it he was heading down the stairs that led to the quad. He stopped at the foot of the stairs as he saw two figures standing under the tent. _Two?_ _There's more than one?_ He hesitated for a moment. "Well, I suppose there's no time like the present…"

As he made his way across the grass and then the paved walkway that bisected the quad, he mentally identified the two strangers with the aid of the dim lighting emanating from the dining hall and the fitness center, both closed, on either side of the quad. One was the man from this morning. The other was familiar but he couldn't place her. He noticed they were both staring intently at something, so he walked quietly over behind them to see if he could figure out what it was before they noticed him. He had always had fun sneaking around. There was a certain excitement, the fear that you might get caught balanced with the exultation of successfully going unnoticed. When he got about five feet away he thought they must have heard him and so he stopped and waited for one or both of them to turn around and acknowledge him. When neither did he rose up to his tip toes and saw the object they were so fixated on: Landon Hall.

At that moment the girl stiffened, as if she finally sensed his presence. The man responded to her reaction by whirling around and stepping in front of her, a ball of energy appearing in his hand as he did so.

"Whoa, whoa!" James cried in a hasty attempt to defuse the situation. "It's me. From this morning?"

The man fixed James with an icy stare before closing his fist and extinguishing the ball of energy. After a momentary standoff the girl broke the ice.

"So you're James Meredith?" With the ball of energy no longer lighting the immediate vicinity the shadows danced across her tanned face.

"Yeah." If she was expecting more she was disappointed.

The man finally relaxed entirely, or as much as he seemed capable of relaxing. "I'm Randall Quinn. I'm the resident shinigami here and the overseer of the spirit energy exposure experiment." He offered his hand.

James looked warily at the hand and then at the girl, now recognizing her from the dining hall as one of the ones who had been with the Erin girl. She gave him a short go-ahead nod and he shook the proffered hand warily as if suspecting some trick. "Shinigami? As in Death God?"

"Oh! You already watch _Bleach_? Quinn, this is great," the girl babbled, "this should make everything go a lot easier!"

"Maybe, maybe not. I knew he had been watching _Bleach_ before this meeting. I suppose you're right in a sense; that makes this a lot easier. As long as you," he said, now directing his comments at James, "don't treat it as gospel, it shouldn't hurt too much in the long run either. By the way, this is Roseanna." The girl gave a small wave, which James didn't bother to return before focusing on Quinn again.

"Okay… so how did you know I've been watching _Bleach_?"

"I have access," Quinn said simply. "I know your personal history, your Internet history, academic history; anything about you that has been documented I have access to. But that's not important right now," he added quickly, cutting off James' astonished response. "What is important is that what you see in _Bleach_ is a reality. I know you've been watching the episodes in Japanese, and I like that; there may actually be some hope for you yet," Quinn told him. James thought he saw a fleeting expression of acceptance passing over the other man's face, but if it did it disappeared instantaneously and James questioned whether it was ever really there at all or just a trick of the light. "Because of that I think you'll understand when I say shinigami rather than Death God, angel of death, psychopomp, or any other like term. Anyway, shinigami do exist. I am one. Roseanna might be one. You… might be one," he added cautiously. James stood there silently with his chin in his hand as he absorbed each word Quinn said.

"But not everything from the anime is real," Quinn continued. "It has enough reality that it is good that you've watched as much as you have, but many specifics are avoided or misleading. You probably have preconceptions that we'll shatter as we bring you along, but—"

"Wait, bring me along? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Listen carefully, because I don't like to repeat myself. Soul Society is a real place with real authority. I am an agent of Soul Society. My primary focus right now," he expounded in short staccato phrases to make sure everything sunk in, "is the spirit energy exposure experiment, which is a test of the hypothesis that exposure to certain levels of spirit energy under specific conditions can make pluses, those are normal human souls like you and Roseanna here, who already have some degree of spiritual awareness, either more spiritually aware or perhaps even into shinigami yourselves."

James brooded silently as Quinn continued. "To that end, Ithaca College is the first testing ground. There are six other potential shinigami here, which includes Roseanna but not you. What I—what Soul Society requires is that you respond to any incidences of Hollows appearing on campus or in town. You will attend regular meeting in which we focus on channeling spirit energy into the four disciplines, and—pretty much you'll have a second curriculum in addition to your school work for developing your abilities."

James considered this for a few moments before asking: "What abilities?"

"Yes, this is where things get complicated. You clearly saw me this morning. You clearly saw me that first night with the Hollow, and you saw the kidou I shaped just a moment ago. But no one—"

"Wait, that was real?"

"What, the kidou?"

"No, I dreamed I saw a man in black fight a giant pink starfish with a sword but…"

"Sounds crazy, doesn't it? That did happen. The bruises? Everyone's reacts differently to the kikanshinki but however you think you got them is false. It was getting pimp slapped by that Hollow that did it."

"I thought I was mugged," James said, flushing a little bit as Quinn brought up the less than flattering memory. Hopefully it was dark enough neither of the others would really notice. "Does that mean those memory devices are real?"

"The kikanshinki? Of course, but we'll have time for your questions later. As I said, until you get some kind of spirit pulse I want you to attend one of those yoga classes offered in the tabloids. And no drinking for a while."

"Yoga? And no drinking?" James asked incredulously, even though he didn't drink. "Why? And what if I refuse?"

"Fuck, I need a cigarette." Quinn pulled out a cigarette and lit it before snapping his lighter shut and pocketing it. James and Roseanna both wrinkled their noses in a unified signal of displeasure but Quinn ignored them. "If you refuse?" Quinn asked ignoring the first two questions and bringing the main topic back to the fore. "If you refuse you're on ice. Out."

"You can't be serious."

"Can't I? I'm the reason you're here. After you had been identified as someone with a background potentially indicative of spiritual awareness and you began considering Ithaca, which was also somewhat our doing, I got the soccer coach to tell you there was a realistic shot of you're playing here. The scholarship? Our doing. Hell, the reason you didn't get into Elon was because they had already filled their quota of potential shinigami."

Once again James took all of this in silently. Instead of bursting out angrily as Roseanna expected him to he exhaled deeply. "I guess I'm okay with that," he said, his voice somewhat subdued. "I don't like being manipulated, but I like it here. I don't know if I forgive you, but I guess I'm not really in a position to do anything, am I?"

"Correct. I'll need to see you're room and then you can meet everyone else."

"Now?"

"No time like the present."

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Okay, mini-update. I've caught up with Bleach, so I've switched to Naruto for the meantime, although I might go to the (Bleach) manga. I've been frustrated by the lack of time I have for writing and further frustrated when I look back over some of what I wrote and wondering what the hell I was thinking when I wrote that. That said, there may be some changes on the horizon for the previous chapters. Finally, I'm upset with Bleach for stealing my ideas. I'll come up with an idea and then before I can implement it into my story Bleach steals it and uses it! Anyway, hope to add more with the next week or two, but no promises.


	7. The Dewfiend and the Skeptic Six

"Is your roommate in?" Quinn asked as James opened the door to Landon to let them in. Roseanna was not with them, having gone back to rendezvous with the others.

"I don't see why he wouldn't be. Midnight on a Tuesday?"

The pair walked into Landon and ascended to the second floor. They moved down the left wing, James leading somewhat casually in front, Quinn trailing and reminding James vaguely of a wolverine. He periodically sniffed the air and his head pivoted sharply with each turn and sound.

James went up to his door and was about to simply open the door when he thought it might be better to knock. Andrew joked that he stopped masturbating when he arrived at college, but James wasn't so quick to accept that.

Quinn snatched his hand as he raised it. "He's not in. Just open the door and let's make this quick."

James cast him an inquisitive glance before he shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh. As he did this he slid his key into the lock and opened the door. He stepped aside to let Quinn enter the unoccupied room first.

Quinn stepped in and looked at the two sides. The left side had shelves and was rather Spartan in terms of personal effects. Walls aside, it might also compete for messiest room in the dorm, if not on campus. The right side was tidied, with food tucked under the bed and Heath Ledger posters from _The Dark Knight_ plastered on the walls.

"My side is—"

"—the left one," Quinn finished for him.

"Yeah," James said meekly, seeming perhaps somewhat embarrassed by the state of his side, although whether due to the lack of decoration or the abundance of mess Quinn couldn't be sure.

Quinn started at the closet next to the door and swept his eyes down the room.

"Toiletries look normal," he said, beginning his inspection by sifting through James' soap, shampoo, laundry detergent, and toothpaste.

_No posters, no pictures_, Quinn thought to himself as his eyes probed the rest of the room._ He's definitely more of a loner type. Probably doesn't make friends easily. Introverted. _

His gaze finally fell to the area under James' bed and his mouth dropped in shock for a moment before he recovered his composure. "Jesus Christ, how much Mountain Dew do you drink?" Quinn asked, gesturing to a stack of Diet Mountain Dew cases under James' bed. The pile was stacked four cases high and extended out to the very edge of the bed, which, if Quinn's math was correct, meant the pile went back four feet under the bed.

"There's actually not that much," James began, again seeming quite self-conscious. It doesn't go back beyond what you see. They're just there to hide the second refrigerator."

"So you didn't drink all of those?"

"No, I did, I just mean that some of those cases are filled with empty cans so that I can keep the fridge concealed."

"So how many would you say you drink per day?"

"Two-ish?" he replied, subdued, shrugging sheepishly as he did so. "I've been drinking less since I got here. It used be closer to five."

"Haven't you heard what yellow 5 does to you?"

"What, the sperm count thing? Don't tell me you really believe that."

"The myth that you speak of actually does have a basis it reality," Quinn countered. "While it is true the yellow 5 doesn't affect sperm count, it does have an effect on shinigami beyond what it does to normal people. Simply put, there are a lot of substances that affect spirit energy and yellow 5 might not do what they say it does to sperm, but it does affect spirit energy in the same manner. This is probably why you have no spirit pulse."

James absorbed this knowledge in silence. "Still," Quinn continued, more to himself than to James, "even if that were the case it should be that noticeable… was that night the first time you had seen a Hollow?"

"What, you mean the starfish? Yeah."

"What about souls, though? Surely you've been seeing them for some time?"

"I don't…think…so?" James answered, his voice rising slightly at the end to indicate the quizzical nature of his words.

"Whatever, I'll worry about it later. Do you have any alcohol in the room?"

James once again looked hesitant to answer.

"Relax a bit, I don't give a damn if you drink, I just want to know what you've been doing that might have brought this situation about."

"Andrew's got some stashed in his closet, but I'm not really a drinker."

Quinn started fishing through Andrew's closet until he found a bottle of Grey Goose vodka.

"That would do it," he said, holding up the bottle. About a third of its contents were gone. "You say you don't drink?"

"No, not really."

Quinn shrugged and grabbed a shot glass that was sitting on top on Andrew's microfridge. He huffed bemusedly at the Green Bay logo on the side before pouring himself a shot of the clear liquid.

"Put that back will you?" Quinn asked, handing the bottle to James. The younger man was stuffing the bottle back into a corner of the closet when he looked back to see Quinn down the shot before letting out a satisfied sigh. "Good shit," he commented as James stood back up. "Alright, let's get out of here."

They had left Landon and were about halfway to the library when a tall, light-skinned boy with brownish-blond hair intercepted them. He locked eyes with Quinn and the James in turn. "Is everything alright?" he asked. "There was a slight drop in reiatsu."

"It's nothing," Quinn replied, "don't worry about it." To James he added: "Spirit energy is a lot more biologically influenced than _Bleach_ would seem to indicate. Like I just told you, yellow 5 actually hampers spirit energy production. Alcohol has a similar but different effect. I usually explain it like this. Yellow 5 works like a circuit in the system. Flip the circuit, and no spirit energy is created. Alcohol works more like putting a towel over a lamp. There's no influence on the amount of spirit energy produced, but there is an effect on the amount perceived. That's actually one of the reasons Ithaca is quite a wet campus. A little inebriation here and there reduces the chances a Hollow comes knocking, so it is subtly not discouraged. I suppose the last one you should know about is marijuana. Pot will temporarily, and I cannot stress that enough, increase the flow of your spirit energy. For you it might actually do something, but for most accomplished shinigami the difference would be negligible. Oh, and this is Isaac," he added, cocking his head toward the other boy.

"Isaac Sunderland," the other added as he shook James hand.

"James Meredith," he returned.

* * * * *

The trio arrived at the library and found it still somewhat active but not overly so.

"Good," Quinn chimed, "not too many people. Isaac, where are we?"

"Second floor around back."

They crosses the library floor and went up a seemingly out of place set of naked concrete stairs in the middle of the upholstered building. They then walked on to see the rest of the group, four girls and one boy.

No sooner had they reached the table then Quinn commandeered the discussion.

"Alright, I have shit to do, so listen up. Everyone, this is the new guy," he started, clapping James on the back. "New guy," he continued as he swept his other hand around the room, "this is the stork," Quinn said, pointing at Roseanna, who hid her face in her chest demurely and tried to look not so tall. "Then we have the midget," he continued, pointing to a diminutive girl who was poring over a psychology textbook. She looked up and gave him a small wave before returning to her book. "Next to her are the ginger, the wetback, the succubus, and the giant." The redhead gave James a small smile, Erin gave him a devilish grin, the 'wetback' muttered something in Spanish about being from Madrid, and Isaac gave him a polite nod.

"That's all I have time for," Quinn stated as he began to walk down the stairs. Their boss stopped for a second and turned back at the head of the stairs. "Feel free to make yourselves acquainted." They watched him descend the stairs and he stopped again, before adding slyly, "that is, if you think it's worth it." James wasn't sure who that last part was directed at, but he saw the ginger and the midget exchange a conspiratorial glance.

After Quinn had left they exchanged greetings. James learned that the six were, in order, Roseanna, Iris, A.J, Xavier, Erin, and Isaac, three of which he already had known. Once they had gone through the pleasantries, James ventured to ask about Quinn's last statement. Isaac was the one who answered.

"Look, I'll be honest with you. You have no spirit pulse. Quinn can say stuff about drugs and physiology, but he's spouting shit half the time, even if he does know more than we do. Personally, I think he's under pressure from the higher ups, probably for results. Not one of us can manifest as shinigami yet. Then you come along, Roseanna vouches for you, Quinn grasps at straws, and, well here you are. Whether you belong or not… that's not my call," he summarized bluntly. "I have homework. I'll see you guys later." He left, and one by one they all did, leaving without a word. Iris remained behind reading. James sat there in silence for a few moments before making his own way down the concrete steps, his brain working in overdrive to process all of this new information.

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Yeah, I know, no update in forever. Shit happens. I haven't given up the story, it's just hard to find time to write especially given a harder second semester of college and my short attention span.


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